


Clipped

by gandalfthesassy



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Angst, HC Robbie is Fae, Intimacy, M/M, Magic, Magic Healing, Removed Wings, Tactile, Touching, Wings, fae, fairy wings, intimate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9048265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gandalfthesassy/pseuds/gandalfthesassy
Summary: There's a good reason Robbie wears such a short vest on top. It's the easiest way he can let his scars breathe, when he's alone.
A slight deviation from LT canon, courtesy of the whole Robbie-is-fae hc floating around. Rated T for swearing and some tactile intimacy (and emotional intimacy). 
Merry Christmas, everyone!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piranhapunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piranhapunk/gifts).



The full moon sat high in the sky above LazyTown, and somewhere nearby, a blue-and-red airship hovered above protectively. All of the children had gone inside and gotten into bed, if not completely fallen asleep by now. It was  _certainly_ later than 8:08, or Sportacus would still be flipping about looking for trouble--rather, looking to  _fix_ trouble. Fixing was supposed to be good, making something better. Fixed, like a domestic animal, good for companionship but nothing more.

Of all the nights for Robbie Rotten to feel declawed, it just _had_ to be the night where the moon shone its brightest. 

Beneath the fabric of his vest, Robbie felt his skin ache to breathe real air, but he knew if he took it off he'd collapse in pain. He wasn't going to make _that_ mistake again. The only reason he'd made a hole in his navy shirt was to let his scars breathe. When he'd get a chance alone in his lair, he could take the vest off and his scars would stop puffing up like they usually did. Problem was, if he left them exposed, they'd swell anyway. His immune system still hadn't adjusted to the absence of wings, even though it had been so long Robbie forgot was it was like to fly. 

He remembered, sometimes. There was the occasional dream where his upper back extended into two sparkling yet sturdy, blue-and-purple fairy wings, beating at varying intervals to get him moving through an endless pink sky. But dreams have to end sometime, and upon waking he'd be biting down on his orange pillow in agony at the pain in his back.

Tonight--well, tonight was one of those special nights where no matter what Robbie did, he just couldn't sleep. It wasn't like he'd always been a successful sleeper--he was  _well aware_ his sugary diet made it worse, but habits are hard to break. Besides, the sugar thing went hand-in-hand with the fairy thing. Or former-fairy, as case would have it. And sleepless as Robbie was, he thought that maybe,  _just maybe_ , wandering around town alone would bore him to the point where he could finally go the fuck to sleep. 

The more he debated, the more he gesticulated to himself. What was the point of avoiding the taking it off if he was just going to hurt? Then again, if one of those noisy kids were to wake up and look out...no, Robbie couldn't risk it. He  _had_ to get on with the walking (as much as it pained him to do so). 

He took one step forward and stumbled backward onto a bench. 

* * *

 

Unable to put his hands directly over his scars, Robbie settled for hugging his stomach tightly and wheezing. Normally, the brilliance of the moon would make fae creatures like Robbie excited and crazy with all of their worst habits and behaviors. However, the place where his wings should have been gleaming, and gently swaying in and out, shone faintly as the moon's magic messed with his body's ability to work. Robbie had never really understood why the moon made his scars hurt. He hadn't done anything wrong. He just wanted to be loved. He _should've known better_ than to do this, even if he didn't know it was a full moon he should've just stayed at home. 

Just as he began to get  _really_  mad at himself, a whooshing noise brought his blurry attention from the ground upwards. Before him stood someone...blue, probably. Robbie's vision had clouded beyond recognition. But he deduced, from the oddly recognizable blues this person was wearing, this was none other than the sports elf. "Sportacus?" he managed, the act of talking causing his scars to flare in pain. 

"Robbie, what's wrong?" Unseen to Robbie through his haze, Sportacus knelt down before him, trying to see if the problem was immediately visible. All Sportacus could see was that Robbie's eyes had glazed over, and a sort of purple glow hit the bench behind him and the wall just slightly beyond that. 

"It's my back, it's...it's hurting."

Sportacus furrowed his brow. "Does your back normally glow like that when it hurts?" 

"Listen, Sportaflop, I'm in a lot of fucking pain right now, so could you please go away?"

"I can't do that, Robbie, you're in trouble."

"No, I'm in pain! And you can't do anything about it! Just go away!" 

With a flip, Sportacus landed behind Robbie. Beneath Robbie's vest glowed the faint outlines of two slanted scars. He'd never been terribly proficient at magic (he was a  _sports elf_ , after all, and there's not much magic in sports besides hard work), but he found that he recognized what would normally have been there. 

"Robbie, did you ever have wings?" Sportacus's sudden bluntness caught Robbie off-guard. He couldn't come up with a retort in time before the other continued: "I don't know exactly what's happening, but I think we may need to get you inside." 

"Inside?! Are you crazy? Literally all you do is encourage those brats to go outside and play, and eat sportscandy, and do flippity-flips--"

" _Robbie_." Sportacus placed a hand on Robbie's shoulder, who flinched away. "Is the moon making it worse?"

" _Everything_ makes it worse. I don't know what to do!!" 

"Hmm. Okay." 

There was the sound of yet another flip, and suddenly Robbie found himself looking upside-down at the bench, from just past somebody's side. He protested like hell, kicking his legs,  _still in a lot of pain_ , but Sportacus ran as fast as he could back to Robbie's home and leapt in through the silo.

* * *

 

When the two came tumbling out the other end, Sportacus managed to land on his feet, but Robbie ended up upside-down in his chair. He fell downward and scrambled to his feet before shooting Sportacus an incredulous glare. 

"Goddamnit, Sportashit, get this dumb vest off of me!" 

Sportacus walked over as Robbie turned his back, folding his arms. He hesitated. If Robbie was asking him to look at his back, this was something Sportacus wasn't exactly used to. He knew his own skin, sure, and that elves could glamour others (sometimes on accident), but for him to look at something so  _intimate_ , so private as the place where his wings were, he wasn't sure if he could. Especially since it was glowing, he was afraid his own magic might interfere with some kind of healing going on--

"I don't know what kind of sporty meditation you're doing back there, but _get this off of me_ so my not-wings can be free." Robbie's pain came through in waves of intensity, and he tried to brace himself. Sportacus swallowed his pride and pulled the vest up partway.

"Robbie, could you let your arms go loose so I can get this off?"

"What? Oh, okay." Sportacus could've sworn he hear Robbie mutter a 'sorry' as the taller man lowered his arms and let them flop by his sides. A giggle murmured past Sportacus's lips, and Robbie scoffed. "What's so funny, Sporty?" 

"It's just that I like when you move." He couldn't stop himself as he slid the vest off of Robbie's thin, wiggly shoulders. "You always like to be lazy, but when you  _do_ move, it's amazing to see how your body can, you know, twist and turn and all of that." He was about to continue when he turned his attention to Robbie's back. Cut into the back of his shirt was an oval-esque opening, and inside were two scars, glowing with a harsh purple glow. Sportacus threw up a hand to shield his eyes from the light.

"It's awful, isn't it. You can't even _look_ at it, it's so bad."

"Is there any way to treat this?"

"There's a way, but it's sort of... _intimate_."

"I'll try it," Sportacus said before Robbie could put it down any further. "What is it?" 

Robbie hesitated. "You kind of have to...put your hands over it?" Sportacus saw Robbie's shoulders tense up in embarrassment. "It's-it's not the sort of things that, you know, acquaintances would do for each other."

"We're not exactly acquaintances, Robbie. I'm your friend."

Robbie gasped softly. "Friend?" 

"Yes, we're friends. I thought you knew."

"Well, you, you said that once and I thought you were just being nice."

"I am nice! And you are my friend! And I want to help this hurt less."

"Oh it's not going to stop hurting, Sportadork. I'm never going to live this down. I'm so broken and gross-looking once you ignore all the trickery and disguises. I'm a fairy with clipped wings. I'm disgusting." 

Almost as a disagreement, Sportacus placed his hands over Robbie's wounds. To his surprise, the length of his hands just barely covered the length of each scar. Robbie's breath hitched in surprise, but soon he began breathing easier as the pain melted away. As soothing as his hands were, Sportacus still felt he had to say something. "You don't need to tell me why this happened. If you do tell me, I promise I won't tell anyone else. I don't think you're broken or gross-looking, and I certainly don't think you're disgusting. I think you could be healthier, but I think that about everyone. I just want you to be healthy, Robbie. I care about you." 

For a moment, neither of them said anything. 

"Do you use magic, Sportacus? As an elf?"

"I-I admit I don't know much," he laughed quietly. "I was more of an athletic elf than a magic-using elf. But I remember when I was younger that my mother would do something similar for me, when I fell and hurt myself. And I did that, a lot."

" _You_? Who hasn't so much as tripped in the last twenty years of his life?"

"Fifty," Sportacus corrected. 

"Whatever, you get my point." For a moment, Robbie expected Sportacus to correct him, but he kept his hands in place and said nothing. "Well, I guess I'll tell you. The short version is, I was too naughty for the other fairies, and one morning I woke up with an awful pain in my back. Some of the older fairies had ripped out my wings. The only reason I hadn't died overnight was because they sort of stabilized the bleeding. But I had to have the wound stitched up, and now it still hurts. It's weird, you never really think about how much you use your wings, and suddenly you're stranded in one of the capital-T Towns and you're always at least a little bit in pain."

"I'm very sorry that happened to you."

"You're just saying that."

"Robbie, listen," Sportacus took his hands away and he stepped in front where Robbie could see him. Robbie felt his scars grow cold without Sportacus's (magic) warmth on them and he shuddered. "You're not the only one with odd body parts."

"What, do you have a third eye underneath that cap?" Sportacus didn't respond. He pulled off his fold-over blue cap to reveal two pointed elf ears - but one of his ear tips looked chewed through. "Wait, what is that?" 

"A very mean elf said I wasn't doing my job, so he started throwing acidic magic at me to 'teach me a lesson.' I flipped away, but some of it caught the top of my ear. And that's why I wear the cap. It's also why I never use violence. Because you just get hurt in the end." He started to put the cap back on, but Robbie reached out and snatched it away. 

"Don't. It's fine, really, Sportacus," Robbie's voice had softened considerably. "If I'm going to have _my_ scars exposed, then you can let yours be there too. Let's be even, just for a little bit." 

Sportacus sighed in consent. "Are you feeling okay? Do you need me to get you anything?" 

"I'm feeling better. I think." Robbie observed the cap in his fingers and fiddled with the material. "But I think, I think I'd like to be alone." 

His expression became concerned. "Are you sure?"

Robbie should've just confirmed that he was sure, but something about that stupid sports elf's concerned face made him melt inside. He barely noticed the hat slip through his fingers as he relaxed, and he held his arms out wide. Sportacus froze, not understanding for a moment. "Can I have a hug?" 

With a little laugh of relief, Sportacus said, "Of course!" He wrapped his arms around Robbie's waist, and Robbie slung his arms around Sportacus's neck. They held each other tightly, as if afraid to let go. Sportacus buried his face in Robbie's shoulder, and with one shaky but gently hand Robbie swiped a finger over the healed scars of the elf's ear. He paused, seeing if there was any negative reaction. Hearing none, his hand ended up in Sportacus's hair, running a few strands through his fingers. In his arms, Sportacus sighed and relaxed a little. 

"If you're going to fall asleep on me, I do have a chair, we can sit down," Robbie teased, his voice low and tired. 

"Robbie Rotten," Sportacus brought his head out from his shoulder, "if you don't get yourself a goddamn bed at some point I will drag you to my airship and make you sleep there." Startled at the profanity, Robbie half-laughed, half-snorted. 

"I'm not complaining." Sportacus tilted his head a little. "I-I mean, if you, if you took me to your airship. I'm saying I like you, Sportadork." 

"Oh, I knew that."

"What?!"

"Yeah! The kids have been telling me that the reason you do all this work is to see me. I don't really believe  _that_ , but I think that they're right about you liking me."

"Well, I hate to admit it, but  _yes_. I do like you."

"And I like you," Sportacus smiled. "But can we please go to bed?"

"That's right, it's way past 8:08. Past your bedtime!" Robbie's voice suddenly took on a joking tone, and he puffed out his chest. "Young man, you should've been in bed hours ago!" Sportacus's giggling filled every echoey space in Robbie's home, making it a little less lonely, and he followed Robbie over to his chair. "So, I'm not sure how we're going to do this--okay." Before Robbie could come up with a gameplan, Sportacus had laid horizontally across his lap and promptly fell asleep. Despite his own grumpiness and surprise, Robbie laughed to himself, "Now I know how he feels when I jump into his arms." With a small, satisfied yawn, Robbie kissed Sportacus's head and leaned back as far as he could, falling asleep just as quickly as the love of his life. 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry it ends so abruptly. i'm tired y'all
> 
> i blame pira for this. and by blame i mean thank wholeheartedly because i love!! angst!! and i love magic and holy shit this was fun to write


End file.
